Life in a New Stand Point a Walking Dead Fan Fiction
by hopey110
Summary: In this Walking Dead fan fiction a girl named Annabel must fight to survive in an apocalyptic world. Every member of her family is gone. And now she is an 18 year old girl living in a world where the dead want nothing more that to eat you alive. Hopefully Annabel will find a group worth caring for to help her along the way,maybe she will even find love. Or maybe just the opposite.
1. Chapter 1

**So let's get something straight. I don't own any of these characters besides the ones I put in. I am super fan of The Walking Dead; I have seen every episode multiple times, read all and own every issue of the comics. I love The Walking Dead a lot. This isn't going to follow the show word for word event by event, nor will it follow the comics like that, this merely my own version of the comics and the show. Yes there will be a lot of the same characters and basic story line, but if you don't like me changing a few things stop reading now. I hope you enjoy.(: Thanks for reading I love any type of feedback and feel free to correct by mistakes! So here we go!**

**-Hope!**

In times like this it's people that matter, people that keep you alive. Then if you think back to before the dead came back to life it was people that mattered then too. Maybe you didn't rely too heavily on them, but it was still your parents who worked to put food in your stomach and doctors and paramedics to save lives. Yet, now all of that was gone. Have you ever thought what you would do if you were still young and had to do everything for yourself? That was life for me. I was an 18 year old trying to get by.

Of course legally I was an adult, yet in the world before this one I was just a senior in High School. I was getting ready to graduate and go off to the Air Force when this all happened, two months from the end of the school year. If things were still the same I would have been happy for an early summer. Now I would kill to be in that pre-calculus class again.

Living in an apocalyptic society your family starts getting picked off one by one, until you're the only one left.

About 10 months ago when the dead started to reanimate, it had already gotten pretty bad, my family and I had just walked into an abandoned house. It looked safe, but of course it wasn't.

While my older brother and two parents were downstairs in the kitchen, I went upstairs to check out the rooms. I entered the first door on the left and inside was dead silent. So my little sister Susie and I walked in, she sat down happily on the bed and played with her doll. I should have been paying attention, but I wasn't I was looking through drawers. Then louder than time itself my sisters scream rung through the air. I still hear that scream as clear as day. I turned around and killed the son of a bitch without a second thought. It was too late; her entire neck was taken out in one bite.

Soon after my gun was fired my family came running up the stairs and into the room. My mother's face went white and then her body melted into my father's arms like an ice cube on a hot summer's day. She sobbed so loudly it was almost unbearable. Susie laid in my arms blood and family surrounding us.

My brother and father were as silent as silent gets, both looking down at her damp blue eyes. One after the other they both said "I love you."

Susie had moaned in pain I had assumed it was her way of saying it back, but she was already on her lasts breaths. Then it was my mother who kneeled down beside her little girl and brushed her finger over her brow and kissed her forehead. All I did was look at my poor innocent sister. She had hardly even got to live her life. As I laid there with her in my arms my sister had took her tiny hand and brushed it down my cheek leaving a smear of blood, as she took her last breaths as the tiny five year old she was.

I still remember that day like it was yesterday and it sits heavily on my mind. The rest of my family slowly died out over the months. Each one was as depressing as the first, yet each becoming less foreign then the next. You would always have to keep moving, I never really had the time to really mourn, but I am sure other groups who lost people never had time either. In a world like this you have to keep moving, you have to keep pushing onward. The truth is you never know what is on the other side of the mountain.

My brother, Nathan, was the last to go. Just a moment ago he died, another family member dying in my arms. In his last few moments he held my hand goodbye, and every breath he took I knew I was a second closer to being the last of my family.

My whole family was dead, so now I am standing in an open field with a bloodstained knife. The knife I used to keep my brother from turning into the turned. That's what my family called them. Over the months in the apocalypse I heard plenty of different names for them. It's not like it's only been my family and I. We have come and go between groups, all not having that certain thing we were looking for. Real civilization, real hope. Now that I've come this far I think there isn't such thing as hope. Hope is dead. Hope has turned.

I slowly un-grip the knife from my dirt ridden hands falling slowly to my knees, I hold in a scream. I know the turned are nearby, so unless I want to be dead too I know I should keep quiet. Tears run down my face rapidly seeming to never stop, I want to weep I want to scream, but I can't. A morbid thought occurs to me, when I die, there will be no one to keep me from turning. I will have to walk the earth as one of them taking innocent lives. This world isn't what it should be. It never will be again.

After about 10 minutes of pure sorrow, I stand. I take in my surroundings, it looks like there is nothing for miles, it is just forest and field and forest and field. There is lots of walking soon to come. As the suns falls the sound of the cicada's raises, my warning sign that night is approaching. Although it is almost night the hot summer air still makes sweat beat down my back, making everything that much more unbearable.

I would like to give my brother a proper burial, but I do not have the strength nor do I have the time. My first priority now was sleep. Even in times like this sleep is a top priority because the more tired you are the more you let your guard down.

I step about 100 feet away from my brother to set up camp. I sit Indian style on the ground opening up my red back pack. This was a nice back pack in its day, but now every inch of it was being held together by duct tape. I pull the dirty smelling tent from the depths of my nearly empty back pack, I lay it out on the ground. As I try to start to put stakes in the tent, all I hear are my thoughts rambling through my head.

I hear my mother scrutinizing voice. '" Your brother is dead Annabel, and all you doing is focusing on yourself." My heart starts to race and I softly say back to my thoughts "That's not true." I did what I could, don't you forget that. Nathan would want me to do this, keep fighting for our family. "Live for the Family." I mumble under my breath.

Tears start to fall down my face again reminding me of my brother's lasts words. "Never go down without a fight Annabel, don't let this world change who you are. Fight, fight for us." I think I was more upset to see him go then he was to leave this horrible world. I take a look at the sun again, 1 hour till total darkness. I need to get crackin on the tent.

It is a two man tent so I should have plenty of room. I start to put stakes and poles in slowly but surely, yet this is so much easier with another person. After about a half hour my house (tent) is complete. I roll my sleeping bag into it not even caring how it looks.

Just before I crawl into it I look up at the moon, and how it is in its proper place. Wouldn't it be nice to be the moon, no people to deal with no turned dead people to kill? All you have to do is rise and fall at the proper time. I take my water bottle out of the bag, observing once again its deterioration from over use. I then take a huge gulp savoring every last particle. I drop my bottle gentle into my pack, and start to crawl into my tent.

As I zip the last corner, I see a light shining so brightly in the distance. Something deep inside my body tells me to head for it, I am aware it is too late now, so I would head for it in the morning. I lie down in my fairly comfortable bed and stare up at the ceiling of my tent, throughout the night every howl of the wind and crack of a branch made my heart pound. Yet knowing there's someone. Something out there makes it a bit better.

**Like? Yes no? I haven't put in The Walking Dead characters yet, but they are coming in the next chapter . Any suggestions opinions? I know there wasn't any action really, but I promise there will be plenty to come. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

The heat radiating from the sun gives me nothing but the urge to drink water, but I can't. A half of a bottle that is all I have left to live on, no food either. I haven't seen any sign of water either and being alone makes it almost impossible to go into any buildings, all it takes is one of turned to kill you. It is one of them to change your life that you've worked so hard to keep.

I think the worst thing to think about dying now is the fact that I've come this far, and the same thing my family and I have been working so hard to get away from is the same thing that kills us. Every day when I when I wake up I hope to wake up back in the comfort of my own home but no, every morning I am in that god forsaken tent. I always have to remind myself that hope is dead.

As I walk through the tall grass, my legs become increasingly itchy and I have to give myself a pep talk every minute not to bend down and scratch the hell out of my legs. Chiggers were probably working their selves into my skin. One thing about the south is bugs were always there come rain, come shine, come sleet, and come snow.

One thing I always find myself thinking about is animals don't turn, they just die. Humans use to just die also, but now that seems like a thing of the past. Death still hurts everyone's heart just as it did then, it is just different. We all have jobs to do; we don't get to cry anymore we don't get to be upset. There is no trying to avoid death now it's around every corner waiting to snatch you up. There is no more complex surgery's to save lives, you just have the common knowledge of your bright of not so bright mind. It was amazing what people could do before the chaos.

No one could have ever really prepared for what happened. The "Survivalists" maybe had a chance, until someone took it from you. Someone always takes what you've worked so hard for. When people were committing to many crimes they tried to enforce Marshall Law, but it wasn't too long before things just got too bad to control.

5 months after Susie died my family and I was walking through this town, we hadn't even seen one of the turned yet. In all honesty we let our guard down, it should be a rule in the too never let your guard down, I haven't had rules to go by in so long. I use to hate rules, always wanting to break them; I know now more than ever that I want rules.

Anyways my family and I were all together laughing and smiling about who knows what, the point being we were actually kind of happy. The feeling of happiness was already so foreign then; people should have appreciated happiness more when they had it. You never what you have until it's gone, that is so true.

We were all trying to find some gas for our car; sometimes you hit the jack pot and other times you just fail at finding even an ounce.

As we walked down the street ten feet in front of us was a corner and rounding that corner was about 50 of the turned. All forming together to make one mega monster.

My Dad screamed to us, "Knives, and guns, lets fight."

Looking back to that day I wish we would have never even tried to fight, we should have just run. I've learned that unnecessary fighting never works out.

We all fought our hardest, but your hardest is never good enough in this world. The more gun shots we fired the more of the turned that came. It was like a never ending fight the whole apocalypse was and still is.

Then it happened, the second death in my family. We were covered in the turned, so my Dad yelled "Go, run!" I knew exactly what he was going to do. He always said he would do it if he had to, but I wished the day would never come.

"Dad No." I screamed in sadness, as he threw himself into the heard. I turned around to see one of the turned getting ready to pounce. I kicked her as hard as I could, she fell to the ground. I didn't waste any time, I shoved my knife into her head again and again angered with rage I stood adrenaline pupping threw my veins only to hear my Dad's muffled screams. Through his pain he yelled as loud as he could to me. "Go Annabel!" So go I went, running up the street with tears rushing down my face.

True love is something that is amazing, something that nothing in the world compares to. Love is unconditional. Exactly how my Dad loved us.

Right now as I make my way through the brush to the strange light it occurs to me that I really have no idea what I am getting myself into. For all I know I could be walking straight to my death. Another sign of insanity pushes its way into my head when I hear my Dad's reassuring voice, "Its okay Annabel. Do it for me." His voice was the complete opposites of my Moms voice. I shake my head; I've been hearing things too often now.

I have no other options then to head for the light, IT IS my only option. I have no food, little water, no sleep, and as a plus I think I am going crazy. This is my best bet.

Of course though, nothing now ever comes easy. Right there in front of me was three of the turned. If it was me and my brother it was no problem, but it's just me. Two males, one female; I could take the women, but the two men were really tall. To be honest, I was pretty short maybe 5'2 or 5'3.

My fingers instantly go for my gun, but the little apocalypse voice in my head tells me it's a bad idea. If I only had a silencer, I figure there are more of the turned nearby. This time my hand reaches for my Bowie Knife. The two male turned are facing the other way so female first. I step forward and instantly she notices me. She starts pathetically limping for me, she is a slow one.

I take one big jump and lunge myself on her, pinning her to the ground and slamming the knife into her skull blood covering my entire chest.

One down two to go. By now they have both noticed me; I go for the closer one first. I kick him, he doesn't fall, and I then use full body force to shove him into a tree. I hear the other turned a few steps away, so I take the knife and shove it through his chin into the depths of his brain.

I tug on the knife vigorously; it does not want to budge. In the last few seconds I manage to pull it out, but not quick enough it pushes down causing me to loose grip on my knife. It goes flying to the right; the turned topples on top of me. He bites the air trying to get a bite of my face. I hold him off with one arm with all my might while I reach for the knife. I start to weaken and he slowly starts coming closer to my face. My fingers reach and stretch for the knife, right before he bites my neck I grab a stick and shove it right through his eye socket.

I push his once manly body off of me and with the last of my power crawl over to a tree. I am covered in blood and smell of the dead. I close my eyes and breathe heavily. I hope I never have to do that again.

When I open my eyes there is an African American woman with dreadlocks standing in front of me. She stares at me and I stare back, I am not sure if she is real or my imagination. She doesn't say anything she just stares. I can't even read her face. Then, reassuring the fact that she is real, two men step behind her from inside the woods. One of the men a tall man with a light beard and a crossbow and the other an African American man with a bloody hammer in his hand. Now, all three of these people stare at me.

I am at lack of words. I have no idea what to say, I am probably quite a sight to look at.

I stand up slowly and brush myself off and then cautiously start to walk towards them to introduce myself. They all raise their weapons before I get within 5 feet. The man with the crossbow speaks up "Hands up, put your weapons down." Crap these types of people.

I sarcastically reply back, "If my hands are up then how can I put my weapons down?" I get death glares from each one of them. "Fine, okay." I say lowering my weapons and raising my hands. They watch my every move.

The crossbow man comes and grabs my things looking me straight in the eyes. I start to speak again, "Please... It's all I have." The African American woman gives a look to where I almost see compassion, but then it is right back to a cold glare.

Tears start to come down my face again, I start to feel light headed and my heart beats rapidly. I lower myself to the ground trying to take deep breaths. Strangely all three of these people come to my side. My mind starts to go black and the last thing I remember is someone saying that "Things are going to be okay." Before I black out.

**So did you like this Chapter yes? No? Do you like where I am going with it? Please, please give me some feedback. I didn't do much editing so sorry if I made any mistakes! Thanks for reading.(:**

**-Hope!**


	3. Chapter 3

Dreams are something that can take you away from this world, but because I live in this apocalyptic world you can't help but dream of it.

In my dream my family and I are all sitting at our old mahogany dinner table, it is like it was just another average day in my household(Before the apocalypse). Nathan was playing on his phone while taking bites of his food, I was studying for the ASVAB and Susie was going on and on about her day, while my parents "Listened."

My dream really seems as if it is reality, but the whole mood shifts when my family goes dead silent. They were silent because they were all dead. All four of them shift their decomposed heads to look at me and simultaneously say "You let this happen to us."

I wake up in sweats in a strange unknown bed. It takes me a second to remember what had happened the day before. People tried to take my weapons and then I blacked out. Did they take me in? I wonder if this place is the light I was headed for.

I take a look around me; I am in a stone room lying on a bunk bed. The room has a musty smell, but it feels like it has recently been inhabited. Over to the side is the door out of here, but it is made up of bars.

"Am I in a prison?" I say aloud. I walk towards the door and look out. There are stairs leading to another level and a sign straight in front of me that says "Cell Block C." I don't see anyone, but the place does seem pretty clean.

I turned around and notice that whoever has taken me in left a bottle of water and an opened can of peaches. I take a drink of water which feels marvelous going down my parched throat. Water is something that is great to have a lot of, which isn't always the case.

I look at the peaches and my stomach growls with glee. I pick up the can and down a few peaches making sure to pace myself.

I walk back up to the door and yell out "Hello?" I am strangely very composed about this whole situation, which isn't like me. In any other situation I would probably be having a panic attack. I think the reason I am not freaking out is all that I want is to be with people and the fact that I am with someone, good or bad, satisfies me.

I know that I was only alone for a day, but there is nothing worse than the actually feeling of being alone.

I always use to think of myself as independent, but truth is no one should be alone in this world. I pick up the can of peaches and eat a few more of the sugary delicacies. Food on a real empty stomach is something that is unexplainable.

I only stop drinking because I hear a jingle of keys and a creak from the door. I quickly put down then can; embarrassed that someone had to see me pigging out. I swiftly use my arm to wipe away the peach juices.

When I look up there is a tall man standing in front of me. The man has a brown beard, he is wearing a brown shirt, has on black jeans, and a gun on his waist. He is very handsome for someone of his age.

The only thing I can think to do is say, "Hi." I also flash a light smile. The man looks back at me clearly un-amused by my friendliness.

He brings his hands together in front of him, "What's your name?"

I stand up to go greet him, "Annabel." I reply while shaking his hand. He shakes my hand in return, but is very hesitant and has a confused look on his face.

"Did you or do you have a group?" he inquires. I fidget while memories of my family swirl through my head. "I was with my family."

I take a seat back on the bed and close my eyes to stop myself from crying. He takes a step closer to me, "And your family?"

I take a deep breath and my heart starts to pound, "They're dead." I answer silently. He nods at me in return to this. I avoid eye contact.

"3 questions," he begins. I am still not sure of his name, but I want to find out. "How many have you killed?" He leans against the wall not taking his eyes off me.

"How many of the turned?" I look up at him in question. He nods once again. I am not so sure about how to answer this, what was I supposed to do be keeping track of how many I've killed?

"I never have liked having to do it, but I know we have too. Killing the turned has become a part of our life now, it is what we do. I am a good shot, I just point and shoot, there's nothing to it." I shift my eyes down to the concrete floor. A lump starts to form in my throat; I really don't like killing them. I know they're not people, but they once were. All of them were once like you and me and now they're dead.

"Too many to think about." I reply with my final answer, which I hope is to his satisfaction. "Where'd you learn to shoot?" he probes. "Is that one of the three questions?" I say furrowing my eyebrows. He shakes his head no.

"Um, my dad was big time into hunting so he taught me to shoot."

The un-named man goes straight to the next question, "How many people have you killed?"

My heart sinks into my stomach at the thought of having to tell him my answer. I have killed before, but I am not proud of it. Telling a lie never works out. "I have killed." I say this so inaudibly that I am surprised he even hears me.

"Why?" He takes a seat next to me on the bed. "Why." I mumble, "He killed my mom." I say this looking him straight in the eye. I can tell he wants more of an answer.

So I tell him the story.

It was my brother, mom and I; we were actually doing pretty well. We had food, water, and shelter. For a while during that time I thought we were all going to be okay.

My mother, Sally, was cooking some beans while Nathan and I played cards in the living room. We were in the middle of nowhere it is a wonder that anyone found us. Of course they found us, people always find ways to take what others have.

The man barged in yelling things at the top of his lungs. My mom instantly came running from the kitchen only to be grabbed by the man. He had a gun pointed at her temple, but my mother's eyes showed no fear. He wanted our guns and any food we had. I tried bargaining with him, "You're your own, we could help you, it doesn't have to be this way." The more I pleaded the tighter he held my mom.

When I turned to grab him some of our food I heard my mother spit on the guy's shoes and she shouted "Don't Annabel." I didn't know who to listen to, my mom or the man that held her at gun point.

As I turned around the man fired his gun into my mother's head, her petite body falling to the ground. I screamed in terror as my mom laid bleeding in front of me on the ground.

Without a second thought I ran with all my might into the man, somehow forcing him to the ground. I grabbed his gun which had fell from his grip and shot him. That all happened so fast it was unbelievable.

I look up at the man and his eyes are looking at me with grief. He begins to talk, "I lost my wife during childbirth, and I could only imagine what that would have been like."

I nod at him back at him, "I don't feel right for doing what I did, but he was just another corrupted soul in the Apocalypse. I even looked at his name in his wallet, Caesar Martinez."

The man now stands up, "Name's Rick by the way. We can't come back from the things we've done, and we have all done something we are not proud of. You are welcome to stay here, but I should have you know there is a really bad flu going around. We have the medicine for it though, so hopefully everything will be okay.''

I smile slightly to myself hiding my full happiness. Rick turns around to walk out, but just before he does, he turns around wide eyed and asks, "What did you say the guy's name was?"

**So, how do you like this chapter? This one was more mellow! How did you like the twist at the end?! So if you watched the recent Walking Dead you know the Governor is back! And in the previews he had three tents which means that Martinez is probably still alive, but in my story he is dead, so deal with it! On another note I didn't have much time to proof read, but I will go and do that tomorrow, so sorry for any mistakes! Once again I love to get feed back!Thanks for reading.(:**

-Hope


	4. Chapter 4

"Listen Rick; just tell me what's going on." We race down the halls of the prison, and I am hardly able to get a good look at my future home. I do notice that the people here have been working really hard to get it looking this nice.

I bring myself to a halt stopping Rick along with me. He turns around and stares at me with confusion. "Listen," I begin, "I am very grateful that you people are taking me in, although I do not like being man handled through a prison without being told anything. I feel like I am being arrested. May I ask what my charges are officer?" I flash a light smile trying to lighten the mood.

Rick rolls his eyes slowly, placing his hand on the back of his neck and rolling it in a disapproving circle. "Annabel, Martinez, well he – Michonne will explain." With that he takes off once again in front of me.

Who the hell is Michonne and what does she have to do with me and Martinez? I guess I will find out in time, everything revolves around time now. Sometimes things happen way to fast, and other times you have to wait a painstakingly long time.

I didn't see many people on my walk from cell block C, but one person I did recognize was crossbow man. When I walked down one of the many passageways I saw him, his eyes watched my gait as I walked. I couldn't help but look back at his mysterious face.

Rick and I walk down a dirt driveway that heads to a gate. Surrounding the drive way is a large open field, which has a little farm on it. My stomach growls at the thought of fresh produce. If they have enough tomatoes, maybe I could make some spaghetti for them. I use to make it all the time for my family. "It's a nice farm."

Rick continues to walk forward but says, "I keep up with most of the gardening, I could always use some helping hands." I'm not sure if that means he is asking me or telling me I should help him sometime.

"I had you pegged for a leader." I walk faster trying to keep up with his long strides. He then slows down coming to a complete stop, "That's not how we do things here. We have learned that no one man can do the job on his own." With that he turns back around to guide the way to Michonne.

About 100 feet away is a women loading up a car. Rick picks up his speed towards her, this must be Michonne.

"Michonne!" Rick shouts out to her. As soon as she turns around I recognize her, as the women in the woods.

When we reach her she speaks to Rick, "Whatcha need?" She glances over at me for a second and then back to Rick. "We have something that could help you find the Governor." Rick states.

Once again questions come into my head, but I keep my mouth shut. Michonne's eyes go wide towards me. "Does the name Caesar Martinez mean something to you?" As soon as I say this anger rises in her eyes, and for a second I am scared for my life.

"What do you know?" she blurts out anxiously, "Um," I begin and look back at Rick, he nods in approval. "He killed my mother… So I killed him." She takes a step closer to me, "Was he with anyone?" I shake my head no back at her.

For a second I see disappointment in her eyes. I still don't know anything about this situation.

"Where's the place you killed him?" I hesitate to answer. I am horrible at directions. "Well, I am not so sure I could give directions. I remember where it is though." Michonne has an upset look on her face.

"Then it is settled, Annabel will show you where it is." Rick utters. As soon as I hear this I turn around and practically yell back at him, "What?! I just got here and now I have to leave."

Ricks face stays serious, "Seeing that you don't have directions. It has to be this way."

I sigh knowing that Rick is right. Then appearing from out of the blue, crossbow man, "Who's going where?" he questions his thick southern accent coming out. "Annabel has a lead on the Governor." Rick says. Crossbow man gets a surprised look on his face. Something really bad must have happened with this Governor guy. What a strange thing to call someone.

I hold out my hand to him, "Annabel." He looks down at my hand and then back at my face. Seems like people here don't remember what a handshake is anymore. "Yeah, I know. We saved your ass. Daryl's the name."

I want to say something snarky back, but I know he is right, they saved me. I would be dead if it weren't for them. "I'll come." He volunteers.

Rick speaks again, "Then it is settled, the three of you will go and the rest of us will hold down the prison. It's a strange place to live, a prison, but it's the smartest damn thing that anyone has done.

…..

I stare out the window in the back seat of the old car, the sun shining in from the blue sky. Every day the grass gets higher and higher there is no stopping it. It would be a nice day for a picnic! Yet, of course that isn't going to happen.

Before we left the prison Rick gave me my knives and gun back, along with some food. I felt welcomed by him, but the two people I sat in the car with aren't even giving me the time of day.

Daryl sits in the passenger's seat fiddling with the radio. "Face it; you're not going to find it." Michonne says looking down at him, He looks up to face her and smirks, "Well I have nothing better to do, so I mine as well try." He continues to mess with it, flipping back and forth between channels.

I know we are getting close to the old farm house, so I speak up, "It's right down the dirt road on your left." Michonne turns her blinker on, I hold in a snicker. It is funny what people remember from the past.

I bring up the courage to finally thank them for what they did for me, "So, I was in a really rough place. Thank you for saving me." I shift awkwardly in my seat. Daryl turns around to look at me, "It's no big deal."

Michonne finally speaks up, "How far down the road?" I scoot up putting my head between the two, looking out the windshield I say, "Not much more."

My family and I only lived here for a bit, but being near this place kills me insides. The road is bumpy and trees line the road. It's such a beautiful scenery. In its day this place was probably a remarkable place to live.

Michonne moves the car to the side of the road, "We will walk from here." I trail behind the two solider like people. I am still not sure why this Governor person is so important, but I am happy to help if it means I get a place to stay.

Up ahead is the other turn off for the house, as we approach it my heart pounds faster. Who knows what mysterious we will find at this god forsaken house, hopefully what they are looking for. "We turn right here." They both follow my direction turning together towards the farm house.

I have never been good at finding my way places so it's a wonder that I have. I can see the house now; I slow my pace at the sight of it. Be strong Annabel, fight it.

One of the turned stumbles out from the woods, covered with blood, and dirt with half of its face taken out. It slowly stumbles towards moaning for our human flesh. Before I can even say anything an arrow goes flying through its head with a crunch. My mouth almost drops at the quickness of the kill.

Daryl walks towards it places his foot on its head and gradually pulls out the arrow. He glances back at me, "How old are you Anne?" I jerk at the sound of him calling me that, I hated that name almost as much as I hated the turned. 'I'm 18 almost 19. I am not so sure." He nods back at me reloading the arrow into his crossbow.

We reach the house, its shutters are moving in the minor wind. The blue paint is peeling and vines are growing all over the place. A lot has changed since I've been here.

"Creepy." Michonne states staring up at the large house. I sit down on the steps; I am a little winded from the walk over here. I try not to think of all the memories, but it is hard not to. "We are going to walk the perimeter, can you handle yourself?" I nod back at Michonne in response. They both leave me to absorb in the beautiful nature around me. My dream use to be that someday I would live in a farm house with my husband and 2 kids, but now my dream is just to make it to tomorrow.

Off in the distance I can see the faint outline of a man dressed in black. For a second I think I am hallucinating, but as he comes closer I know I am not. My heart rate picks up again, "Shit." I quickly get up to go find Daryl and Michonne.

I run to the side of the house only to run into a manly body. I fall to the ground; I look up at the man the tall bald muscular man in fear. "Michonne! Daryl!" I yell.

The man smacks me hard across the face, "Shut up!" He squawks. He pulls me up my face stinging with pain he holds my arms tight behind my back. He starts to walk me forward, but I stomp on his foot. He shrieks in pain losing his grip on me. I manage to get free; quickly turn around kicking him hard in the balls. He falls to his knees. I need to find Michonne and Daryl.

I run as fast as I can to the front of the house only to them squirming in the arms of strangers. I stop for only a brief second to look at them for a sign of what to do, before I too am met with arms holding me tight.

Well Great.

The man I saw in the distance is now standing right in front of Michonne. She looks as if she wants to kill him. There is something vaguely familiar about him. He is wearing a black trench coat and has an eye patch over his eye.

He stares at Michonne, "Took you long enough to find me." He then goes to Daryl, "I see you guys have met my new friends. Your long search gave me time to build up an army." The man steps over to me, and as soon as he lays eyes on me he goes silent and his face goes pale. I stop twisting in the man's arms. I know him. "Philip?" I say astonished.


	5. Chapter 5

"Annabel?" Philip stares back at me in amazement. He was my dad's best friend. We use to have barbeques, go shooting together and I even use to babysit his daughter Penny.

"Let'r go." Philip says to the guy holding me back. "Where's Penny?" I question. He stares back at me for a few moments and then proceeds to shake his head. "What about your family?" I look up at him and say, "All dead."

Tears start to come down my face, and I spring myself on him without a second thought. My arms hold him tight, it is nice to be in the arms of someone I know and Trust. It takes him a moment before he puts one arm around me in return.

I pull myself away wiping the tears from under my eyes. Daryl screams from behind us, "Annabel?! You know this Som' Bitch?!" I turn to face him, "He was my family's friend. We can trust him. Philip can you let them go?" Daryl looks crazed; he looks from me to Philip and then shouts again, "So what? He's not going to us go. This guy is evil now Annabel. He's the governor. Martinez was his guy; I bet he sent him inside to kill your family." My heart drops into my stomach and I turn to face Philip, "Is this true?" I choke out half audible.

Philip takes in a deep breath and shakes his head. "They're lyin' to you Annabel, that woman killed Penny and their people attacked mine. They aren't what they seem." My ears ring, I am overwhelmed by information. I just don't know who to believe, the people that saved me, or a family friend. "Can you just let them go so we can talk about this?"

Philip walks away from me and says, "I'm afraid I can't do that. You are either with us or against us." He goes towards Michonne and smacks her across the face. I gasp at the sight of it. Michonne spits on Philips face and he smacks her again. "Go ahead, tell her your lies. We all know the truth." Daryl fights in the man's arms trying to get to Michonne. He goes in for another smack but I yell, "Stop." I stops mid hit, I quickly pull my gun out and pull the hammer back.

He slowly turns around with his hands up and stares at me. "I am still a good shot Philip, remember you and my dad taught me? Now get your hands off of her." I know now who the real enemy is. There is something different to him, something maniacal about him.

An evil grin forms slowly across his dirt ridden face, "What are you going to do Annabel, shoot me?" I mimic his smile, "Exactly." I quickly point my gun putting a bullet into his shoulder. He falls to the ground with a scream.

The men holding Michonne and Daryl let them go and rush to Philips side. "Run!" I shout motioning for them to follow me. They quickly come to my side, "We need to warn the others." Daryl nods back and me but Michonne stops us, "So we are just going to let them get away?! What if he goes back to the Prison?!"

I shake my head at her, "That's why we need to get there first. We don't have much time." I am right Philip shouts to his minions "Don't let them get away you cowards!"

Before Michonne even has time to answer gun shots are flying past us. We go low running as fast as we can through the brush. "Faster!" Daryl yells to us. He is a little ahead leading the way.

The gun shots continue to fly. They are wasting bullets, or so I thought. Daryl goes flying to the ground clutching his side. He's been shot. Philips people are getting closer, I can hear them. They aren't that far behind. Michonne and I help him up, but Daryl resists. "I got it. I don't need no help." He tries to get up but falls right back down. I hear the enemy's voices. Michonne whisper shouts to Daryl, "There's no time. Just let us help." We drape him around our shoulders helping him through the woods.

"We can't go back to the car, they're probably already there. We are going to have to find a new ride." I say to Michonne. She nods in agreement.

A full grown man weighs a lot, even with two people carrying him. I don't think I would have been able to do this on my own. We trudge through the woods trying to make minimum noise, but it isn't easy. Daryl is leaving a trail of blood behind us. He is losing a lot of it. He needs medical attention fast.

"It didn't go straight through." Daryl mumbles out and shakes his head. This is going to be more complicated than I thought. "You're going to be fine." I lie to him. Truth is I am not sure if any of us are going to make it out of here alive. We have people with guns on our trail, plus we don't even know where we are headed.

Up ahead I can finally see the road. We have strayed really far from where are actually car is, but finally we have some luck. There is a car pulled over on the side of the road, but we are going to have to fight for it, four of the turned guard the black Nissan. "Shit." I stutter under my breath. We stop for a moment under a tree to catch our breath. I look over at Michonne who seems to be coming up with some sort of plan. "I've got this." She whispers to me. We prop Daryl against the tree and watch as Michonne walks to the dead.

She pulls her katana from its holster raising it and charging for the one turned. The blade goes clean through its eye. She slices the second one's head off at the neck; its body falls limp at the ground and its head rolls on the ground biting the air. She kicks one of them back ward; she quickly runs around and stick the katana in the back of its head. The last one finally gets up and charges for her, but it's swiftly put to death, Michonne slices the top of its skull off.

I stare wide eyes at the women who just flabbergasted me. That was the most talented thing I've ever seen.

She runs over to help me carry Daryl to the car. "That was remarkable." She gives me a slight leer, "I've learned a thing or two in the apocalypse."

Daryl shakes his head, "I'm bleeding out over here, quit the small talk." He's right we are in a serious situation.

I think we have lost Philips people for now, but it won't be long before they catch up. The car is unlocked so we carefully place Daryl inside. "My dad was a doctor; I know a thing or two. I think I can handle it." Michonne nods at me and goes to the front of the car to get it started.

I tend to Daryl in the back. "Okay, Can you maybe roll to your side?" He slowly moves along with my help. The wound is pretty bad, there is no exit and it is still bleeding. I pull my first aid kit out of my pack and press gauze down hard on the wound. I press harder and harder, but the bleeding ceases to stop. Daryl flinches, "Watch it!" I release the pressure from his side.

I take out my shoelace and tie it around his waist just about the wound. I tie it tight, in hopes the bleeding wills stop. It doesn't all stop, but it's not bleeding as much, it gives me time to get the bullet out. "Daryl." I shake him lightly, he has lost cautiousness. We don't have much time. I watch for the rise and fall of his stomach, my heart jumps when I don't see it, but it only takes a moment.

I wipe the wound with some water and grab my tweezers from my kit. I slowly stick it inside the wound, I feel around for the bullet. I finally find it and pull it throwing it outside behind me.

The car revs to life and just in time too. I hear on of Philip's men shout, "They are over here!" We close are doors and Michonne slams the gas causing me to roll around in the back. "Sorry. How's he doing?" I sit upright on the dirty floor. "He'll be just fine."

Michonne keeps her eyes on the road but does something much unanticipated, "Thanks for helping." A slight smile forms across my face. I don't need to say anything in return. Maybe, just maybe I've earned her respect.

I stitch and bandage Daryl's wound. I untie the tourniquet; the bleeding has pretty much stopped.

I crawl into the front with Michonne and stare at her hand on the steering wheel. "What?" she asks glancing over at me. I shift in my seat and say, "I still don't know how to drive." I chuckle to myself, my dad never taught me. I was always a little scaredy cat, but now in the apocalypse, I wish I had that skill. "If we live through this, we'll have to teach you." She smiles at me. It's these moments now that I live for, the little pockets of happiness in all this madness.

Our first priority now was warning the people at the prison. I look in the rear view mirror and my heart stops. "Michonne. They're following us."


	6. Chapter 6

****NOTE. SPOILERS.* **

After a rugged car chase with some evil men, we had managed to lose them. Not for long though, Michonne says the Governor knows where the prison is.

As we sit in our new ride we discuss what we should do, we are practically out of gas. We don't have enough to get to the prison, but we need to get back to warn everybody. Things are about to get rough, for all of us.

Michonne taps the steering wheel with her fingers. Daryl's awake and a bit confused. Michonne finally speaks up, "I'll go find some gas." I shake my head at her; "Are you sure?" she nods opening the door.

I watch as she walks away in the distance, I have faith in her.

I turn around to see Daryl is casually poking his wound. My eyes go wide at the sight of his dirty hands. "Daryl! Don't do that." He stops for a moment and looks at me, "What are you gonna do mom? Ground me?" I roll my eyes in return to another one of his snarky remarks.

"For someone who has just been shot you're sure in a good mood." I look out the windshield and notice I have lost sight of Michonne. I hope she will be okay; I have horrible anxiety about everything. "Yeah, cuz I'm alive." Thanks to me. I think to myself.

I start to fiddle with the radio for old time's sake. Daryl watches intently from behind me. My heart drops when a voice comes out over the radio. I look back at Daryl who seems just as shocked as I do. "I've heard this before." He sits up in his seat, listening with me. "We have a sanctuary, food, water, shelter, and people are all here. Located on the outskirts of Washington D.C." I talk over the radio, "Sounds heavenly." Daryl hushes me. The man's voice repeats itself over and over again.

I turn off the radio and stare at Daryl who is staring back at me, "Washington D.C." He says quietly. My mind wanders to thoughts of a safe haven. I crave society, people, and happiness. I miss it, "Isn't that a long way to transmit?" Daryl shakes his head yes, "But it isn't impossible." I am suddenly filled with a little joy.

My day dream is broke by Michonne knocking on the window. I instinctively jump and put my hand on my gun, but as soon as I realize it's her I sigh in relief. She is carrying a can of gas, thank god.

We reach this prison before Philip does. Everyone is safe for now, the Governor will attack soon. It might even be today.

Rick rushes to the car to great us. I help Daryl out of the car; he has for the most part regained his strength.

For an instant we all glare at Rick. Then in the simplest way Michonne tells him, "He's alive."

Ricks blue eyes go huge and he brushes his hand through his hair. "Now what?"

Michonne pierces her lips, "When he gets here, I'm gonna kill him." With that she walks away and even from a distance I can feel the hate radiating off of her.

I sigh, why do things have to be this way? The moment I find a group there is another one threatening it! "Daryl. I think you should go gather the council, I will fill Annabel in." Finally I'm going to get some answers. Daryl slowly walks ahead of us by himself.

"You think he will be okay?" I ask. Rick looks out at him, "Yeah, he's a tough one." I smirk knowing Rick is right, he's tough.

Rick and I walk up to the small farm and kneel down next to a tomato plant. He starts fiddling with tomato leaves. "Whatever you remember about the Governor… well you need to forget it. He has killed too many people to count, and he hates us. Things are going to get bad, I'm sorry we've brought you into this."

I focus on his calming voice. It's a wonder that somehow even in times like these; he manages to stay that way. I nod in understanding. "We have an exit plan if things get too bad, but hopefully it won't come to that."

I smile pathetically at Rick, "I hope."

Rick and I walk up to the courtyard where a lot of people are talking attentively about the situation. It occurs to me I only know two of the people standing in the courtyard, Rick and Daryl. It saddens me to think that I could die today and I will never know these people's first names. Michonne is nowhere to be seen.

It's probably not the best time for introductions. A tall brunette speaks up, "How'd you find him?!" she sounds like she was born and raised in Georgia. Daryl nods over to me, "Annabel had a lead." The woman shakes her head, "Who's-"

I step forward to introduce myself, "Hi, I'm Annabel." Her face is blank, but then anger rushes over it. "Are you helpin' him?! Are ya?!" she steps closer to me, and Daryl and Rick come to my aid. "It's not like that Maggie." Daryl says while pulling her away. Maggie closes her eyes for a moment and then speaks. "Sorry Annabel. It's nice ta' meet you. Thanks for helpin' us." I nod back at her and step to the side with Rick.

"Someone really close to her is sick; she doesn't want anything bad to happen." I nod and cross my arms over my chest. It seems like wherever I go trouble follows.

Unexpectedly something catastrophic happens, nearly 50 feet from us a guard towers explodes. We all dunk from the falling debris. I look in the direction from where the madness came from, and standing at the gates is a bunch of people. They are all led by the one and only Governor.

They have a tank, multiple cars, way more people, and some pretty heavy machinery. "We're screwed." I mumble to myself, beside me Rick sighs loudly.

The Governor barks, "Rick, come down here. We need ta' talk." Everyone looks to him, so Rick awkwardly slides his hands in his pockets. "I don't make the decisions any more. We have a council."

The Governor walks to one of the trucks and pulls out an old man, Maggie and a young blonde gasp in shock. I make an inference that the old man is there father. "How bout Hershel? Is he on the council?!" Rick looks like he is holding his breath. The Governor pulls another person from the car, 'What bout Michonne?" I glare in shock.

Rick looks back at his friends and a few of them nod in approval. He begins to walk down to him, I have confidence that Rick can convince the Governor there is another option.

I walk to Daryl, who is standing with a boy around the age of 14, although I am older than him, he is just as tall as me. "Who are you?" he asks as Daryl, the boy and I slyly walk over to a basket of guns. "Annabel. Yours?" Daryl reaches into the basket and hands the boy a gun, "Name's Carl. You a good shot?" I nod and Carl hands me a gun.

More of our people come to grab guns and we all line the fences focusing in on our opponent's. Philip has Michonne's katana raised to the old man's head, we can't hear what they are talking about, but it doesn't look so well.

Carl speaks up, "I could shoot him, I'm a good shot." Daryl shakes his head, "No, just let your dad handle it."

Philip lowers the sword and for a moment I think Rick has convinced him, yet I am dead wrong. He takes the katana and swings it into the man's neck, the cut didn't go all the way through, but enough that the man will die. The old man's shirt within seconds is covered in blood. I close my eyes at the gruesome sight. Maggie and her sister scream in horror, I've been where they are; it's not a good place.

Rick screams "NOO!" he pulls out his gun and shoots. This is the shot that started our war. Everyone on both sides takes this as the signal to take action. Gun shots ring out over the entire prison. Adrenaline pumps through my veins at the sounds of chaos. I shoot one of the Governor's people down, it causes me to stop and stare, and I'm sickened once again by me killing someone. "Keep shooting Annabel! Stick with Carl! I will be back."

I scream while I shoot, it's the only way to keep me sane. "Follow me!" as Carl says this, the tank breaks through the fences. People start to scatter from our battle positions. I follow Carl. People around me are being shot down, their screams piercing the air. It's very unnerving.

The tank is moving closer to the courtyard. "We need to find my Dad!" Carl says as we take cover in some shrubbery. "I'll go find him, you cover me." I quickly make my way over to Maggie who is with two other people; the man she is with is injured. They look like they are getting ready to leave. "Maggie! Have you seen Rick?!" She shakes her head no, "He might still be where we last saw him!"

I sigh, "Do you need any help?!" Maggie and another woman, Sasha, begin helping the injured man up, Maggie calls him Bob. "No! We got it. Have you seen my sister?" I pause for a moment, "I think I saw her with Daryl! Good luck."

I run down to where I last saw Rick, he is being strangled by the Governor. His face is turning blue and he is covered in blood; I pull out my gun and prepare to shoot. It's hard to get a good shot when they are moving around, but then like a ninja to the rescue Michonne skewers the Governor. I practically leap with joy, this place is being overrun by the turned, and we need to move quickly.

I rush down to Rick who is screaming "Where's Carl." He is beaten to a pulp and is limping. I call out to him, "I know where he is. Follow me!" I stop only for a moment to watch as Michonne stares down at the suffering evil man.

I lead the way to where I left Carl and of course he isn't there. "CARL! CARL!" Rick screams wildly for his son. Two of the turned emerge from around one of the cars, I grab Rick's arm in fear. We need to go. Then mysteriously the turned are shot, they fall to the ground and behind them is Carl. He runs into his father's arms.

Another one of the dead starts to limp for us, but Carl shoots it again and again, clearly angry. "Judith?! Where is she?" Rick asks. Carl shakes his head, "I don't know."

We begin to look for her; this place is crawling with the turned. A few feet ahead is a baby carrier, Judith is a baby, oh god. The carrier is empty and there is blood in it and near it. Rick and Carl break down into tears, "No..No.." Rick cries out.

I give them a moment, it's important to cry. When they are ready we make our way out of the prison. We find a torn down area of the fences and make it too the forest. As we walk up the hill Rick says, "Don't look back Carl, just keep walking."

Truth is I don't know where we are going or what's going to happen to us. All that we can do now is keep walking forward.

**How'd you like this chapter?(: It basically follows episode 408! Sorry for any mistakes. I would love some feedback! Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

Carl and I helped Rick limp down the residential street. We have been walking since early morning, because the Governor attacked so late in the day it didn't give us much time to make it out of the forest. So the three of us sat huddled up against a tree, depressed, and scared. Although it was tough, we made it through.

We found a town and we are hoping to find an available house for Rick to rest in. He isn't doing so well. I think his gunshot wound is infected, he needs some antibiotics or else he just might die.

We come across a small shop, but Rick keeps walking. I eye it down, knowing we need to supplies. We have practically nothing besides the few cans I still had in my pack. We are thirsty, starving, and weak, we need shelter. Rick follows my gaze, "Let's stop. You guys can check out the shop. I'll keep guard outside."

Rick really shouldn't be left alone, "Rick, are you sure?" We stop and stand there for a moment while I wait for his response.

He looks at me with his swollen eyes and blood crusted face, "I'm sure Annabel." I nod at him and began to walk into the old small town grocery store. The sign reads mini mart in big red fading letters. The white paint has turned brown and weeds around it have taken control. "We won't be long." I say to Rick.

Carl enters the shop, but before I can reach the door handle Rick grabs my wrist stopping me altogether. "No guns okay? Keep an eye on Carl."

I tilt my head at Rick, trying not to focus in on his poor face. All I want to do is take it and clean it. I flash an insignificant smile. "I promise Rick. I will." He holds onto my wrist for an instant before letting me go.

Carl is already in the store combing over the empty shelves. There mustn't have been any walkers in here, because Carl clearly has his guard down. "Anything good?" I ask picking up a can of green beans and tossing it in my bag.

He shakes his head, "Not really. Just some corn." I nod my head wishing for more. I crouch down looking at the lower levels of the shelves.

My eyes tinkle dimly as I find more cans. "Re-fried beans and some mushrooms!" I call out to Carl while packing more cans in my bags.

"You know what I want?" I ask as I swing my bag over my aching, sunburned shoulder.

Carl pops up over the shelving, startling me a little. "What do you want?" He leans on the shelf waiting for my answer.

I lean in closer as if I am going to tell him a secret, but a sarcastic grin originates upon my face. I lick my lips and raise my eyebrows. "I want a quarter pounder with cheese and mustard."

Carl's face scrunches up, "Mustard?" You laugh a little as you hand him your bag so he can put his cans in.

Carl laughs a little himself, "How about some onion rings." I stick out my tongue in disgust.

"Ewe. I didn't take you for the onion type." I say zipping up my bag once again. Carl's smile stays on his face, which makes me smile also.

Carl chuckles again, "Type? Now I'm a type? What about you weird onion people?" We began cracking up, in my opinion it feels good. Carl laughs right alongside me, when abruptly his smile turns in to a frown and his laugh turns into silence.

He shakes his head, "It's not the time for laughing, I will be outside." He says as he walks towards the entrance furiously.

"I'm going to check another aisle." I call out to him. Carl continues walking forward. "Do whatever you want." The bell above the door rings as he exits. I know what he is feeling, I've been there, done that, but embracing happiness is the only way to feel better.

I sigh and walk to the back isle of the store. I notice there are a few more cans. Chicken noodle soup catches my eye, my mother use to cook the best homemade chicken noodle soup ever. Plus soup is great survival food.

I reach for the can with a smile on my face. To my surprise right next to the can is a gun. Usually there aren't many guns just lying around. My heart rate quickens as I hear the soft breathing of another person. I reach for the gun as quick as I can but the man stops me. "I wouldn't do that missy." A manly voice booms behind me tightening his grip on my arm. I feel a gun press into my back.

I slowly turn around and raise my hands in the air. A tall man emerges from the darkness. His brown hair goes past his eyebrows and his tattered clothes rest loosely on his skinny body. "Look man, I don't want any trouble. I'm just stopping at the grocery store for some food. "I say my voice quivering.

He shakes his head and laughs maniacally, he's a crazy one. He keeps his gun pointed at my stomach, "This ain't no grocery store anymore."

I keep my hands held high and look around the place for an escape route. "I'll give the cans back. No problem right?" I reach for my bag but he moves the gun closer to me.

He licks his lips, "That's not what I want." I start breathing heavily, this can't be happening.

"I'm just going to be on my way.." I say as I try stepping away.

"Don't you dare take another step." He waves the gun at me. I fear that if I shout for Rick he'll shoot me on the spot, but if I don't shout I think it'll be too late.

Before I have another second to think the man is forcing me up against the wall. He presses his lips against mine making me want to vomit. I push him off me and punch him in the eye. That doesn't go over very well. He takes the gun and pistol whips me. I fall to the ground clutching my now bleeding eyebrow.

He gets on top of me holding me down with full force. My small body is no match for his. I try to wriggle out, but there's no use. He somehow manages to pull my shirt over my head and begins unbuttoning my shorts. "No, no. Please don't." I plead practically screaming.

He slaps me, "Shut up!"

I began to cry hysterically, this just can't be happening. It can't. I am just so helpless; I can't do anything about it. He manages to get my shorts down to my knees and get his pants off. I cry harder in fear.

A gunshot rings out and the man falls to the ground beside me. I look to the side to see Rick with his gun raised. I get up; half dressed and run into Rick's arms.

I hold him tight as I cry into his chest, "R-R- Rick. He-he was going to-." I stop, beginning to cry louder. He puts one arm around me and the other on my head as he strokes my hair.

"It's gonna' be okay. We gotta' move, walkers will be here soon." Rick pulls away and I nod to him. I try to calm down as I wipe my face. I put on the rest of my clothes and meet Rick outside, still shaking from the whole experience.

I walk ahead of the two men, leading the way to the houses. I hear Rick limp up behind me as he places a hand on the small of my back. He asks, "How you doing?"

I pull away from him not wanting to be in the presence of men, "Just peachy." I say flipping my hair and quickening my speed.

**Notes**

So this chapter was very short, but I already have the next chapter written out so it won't be so long of a wait! I apologize for making you guys wait this long for this chapter. I've been bust writing some other things! Sorry for any mistakes. Some feedback really would be nice.(: Thanks for reading!


End file.
